


Planemo: With(out) You

by arcadenemesis



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Keith masturbates in his bed, M/M, Masturbation, Pining Keith (Voltron), Pre-Season/Series 01, Sexual Fantasy, Shiro is away on the Kerberos mission
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-01
Updated: 2020-02-01
Packaged: 2021-02-25 12:47:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22496338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arcadenemesis/pseuds/arcadenemesis
Summary: "Hey, check this out.”He reaches toward the camera, and with a couple of clicks and rumbles, the vision rolls until it goes steady on Shiro's face again by a window.“This was my view when I woke up today.”Shiro turns the camera out the window, and in the distance, Keith can see Saturn and its rings looming in all its magnificent glory. It's stunning.“Not bad, huh?”he laughs, bringing the camera back to his face.This view is somehow better, but Keith nods. “Incredible,” he answers softly.Shiro is a billion miles away, but Keith still tries to imagine what it would be like beside him.
Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 106





	Planemo: With(out) You

It's been 152 days, 17 hours and nine minutes since Keith's heart left the atmosphere. The rest of him still lingers on Earth, bound to barracks and classrooms and simulators. But that one little piece of him—a stowaway on a rocket bound for the edge of the solar system—hides in the pocket of the ship's pilot. And he doesn't even know it.

Sometimes that's the worst part, Keith thinks. The part where he let that rocket fly without telling the truth. He had had plenty of chances; a whole day of just them. Time to forget he would be putting seven and a half billion kilometres between them.

Maybe it was for the best. The heart he sought was still mending. He wasn't even halfway sure it wanted him too. And with the wonder of a dream ahead of it, perhaps there wouldn't have been room for him anyway. Keith had always been the distraction, the troublemaker, the _kid_.

Well, not any more.

No one says anything to him in class, not the teachers, not the students, but Keith doesn't care. There's only one person he wants to hear from today. And he knows it's a lot to wish for—it's impossible, really—but it's a wish all the same. It makes his hands clammy on his controls and his leg bounce restlessly. It kills his concentration and an already compromised desire to be behind a desk. 

When classes draw to a close for the day, Keith finds he's fearful. He knew the chances were slim, but facing reality is harsh; a growing mountain of sawdust behind his ribs, pushing down on his lungs. He told himself he wasn't hoping, but it was a poor lie. He really, truly was. It's just that today it's his birthday, and the only gift he wants is a single trace of _him_. He's so used to having nothing that it shouldn't be a disappointment, but it's unfair, it's unfair, it's— 

“Cadet Kogane.”

Keith startles, snapping to attention before the officer. The man fixes him with a stern look. He's one of the ones who teaches the cargo pilots. Lieutenant... Harold? Henderson? Wait, he's got it—

“Lieutenant Hedrick, sir.”

Hedrick studies him a moment, then speaks. 

“A message came from the _Proserpina_ ,” he says, and Keith's stomach flips. “Officer Shirogane has requested that you be present for the mission update. We're scheduled to converge at the Central Command at eighteen-hundred.” His expression breaks into a smile, and Keith feels his tension disperse. “Be sure to take dinner early; the kitchen knows you're coming. You're expected in full uniform. Don't be late.”

“Y-yes sir,” Keith manages, stunned.

He's too anxious to eat, but he runs— _power walks_ to his dorm to change into a fresh uniform and try to do something about his hair. It's an official briefing after all and he should look presentable... never mind his usual disdain for such ridiculous discipline. Maybe Shiro is the differentiating factor here, but he's sure no one will notice. No one needs to know. 

Shiro... how long has it been since he spoke to him? Apart from stilted flight logs and the occasional Garrison report on mission status, Keith hasn't heard anything since take-off. The occasional personal message slips through; a sign-off from Shiro's crewmates to their family, or a joke from Shiro that Keith thinks only he understands, but otherwise, it's been silence. The most Keith had dreamed of for today was a small message slipped in between the reports of ship function and crew updates. To be there in the room when the feed comes through is far more than that, and it makes Keith's fingers tremble on his uniform. 

Keith doesn't deal in clichés, but perhaps there is some truth in this one: absence really does make the heart grow fonder. At least for him, anyway. He can only hope it's a cliché that comes full circle. Maybe when Shiro sees how much he's grown, how far he's come and how hard he's worked while he's been away, it might finally spark something for him too. 

He's never been one to arrive early—he has better things to be doing than sitting idle waiting for others—but Keith finds himself outside of Central Command no less than twenty minutes ahead of schedule. He stands to attention as the senior officers arrive, desperate to give them no reason to change their minds and kick him out of this meeting. He would get down on the ground to do some Griffin-level bootlicking if it meant five seconds of hearing Shiro speak. He doesn't even dare complain when they finally file in and administration directs him to a place at the back of the room. It's fine, it's enough, it's more than he expected.

The display at the front of the room is just static and muted white noise, and Keith doesn't realise he's holding his breath until he starts feeling lightheaded. From there, he tries to concentrate on the draw in and out of his lungs. It would do no good to pass out now, before the feed even begins. The static flickers, cuts out for a moment, then suddenly the grainy image of the inside of the _Prosperina_ comes to life.

 _“Hello, have we got audio and visual?_ ”

Keith tries not to feel disappointed as Admiral Sanda rises from her chair. It's not Shiro's voice that comes through.

“Reading you loud and clear, Commander. We're ready when you are.”

 _“Excellent!_ ”

The quality of the feed sharpens as the bespectacled face of Samuel Holt moves into the frame. Keith does his best to pay attention as he runs through their mission status, and the more mundane reports from life on the _Prosperina_. He barely holds back a snort when Commander Holt jokes that the biggest threat to their mission—a malfunctioning lavatory—has been swiftly fixed and appears to be back in working order.

“Pilot's report, please,” Sanda requests clinically once he's done. 

Holt shifts out of frame and then, there he is. For the first time in five months, Keith can feel his heart beating again. 

Shiro smiles easily, and his eyes flick to the bottom of the screen. Keith hopes it's to look for him—hopes he sees him, even from all the way hidden at the back of the room. It's stupid, but he looks more breathtaking than Keith remembered, even through a feed stretched across billions of miles of never ending space. He's happy, Keith can tell. He belongs among the stars, exploring the worlds beyond theirs. It resparks that dull frustration Keith carries that anyone could have thought to bar him from this mission. 

“Officer Shirogane, proceed. What is your latest status?”

He looks so self-assured when he nods. Keith's heart skips a beat that he feels across the galaxy. 

_“Still tracking to schedule. We completed a successful fly-by with Finlay's comet thirteen hours ago. Expected to pass Saturn's orbit within the next two. Had to adjust trajectory by one-point-three degrees following our fly-by, but looking good now. Going to get a close look at Saturn as we pass, so we'll continue to monitor. Worst case, Titan will make a good candidate for a gravity assist, should we need it.”_

Is it corny to think that his eyes look like silver starlight right now? Okay, no, stupid question; it's _definitely_ corny, but Keith still thinks it anyway. Shiro is already terribly attractive—with perfectly coiffed hair that seems to withstand the test of space travel, a jawline that could cut diamond and shoulders broader than a barn door—but hearing him talk about his flying is borderline erotic. 

“Have you assessed the impact to your fuel reserves for the adjustment?” Sanda asks.

 _“Yes ma'am,_ _”_ Shiro replies immediately, and Keith can't help but feel smug. _“We've been flying very efficiently so far. Fuel levels are twenty-one percent higher than originally allocated for this point in our trip.”_

“Very good,” Sanda answers stiffly. “Anything further to report?”

_“No ma'am, except that I believe I made a personal request upon last contact?”_

“Yes, we have acknowledged your request,” Sanda replies, reaching for the datapad that one of her officers hands her. “And while non-family is outside of our usual policy, we have made exceptions for you again, given your circumstances.”

Keith doesn't like the way she says _again_ , like Shiro should be grateful for his treatment. 

“Cadet Kogane, you may approach.”

Keith's legs feel wooden, but he doesn't hesitate to come forward, barely keeping his pace respectably measured. Shiro's face lights up as he takes Sanda's place, and Keith almost stumbles. 

_“Keith..._ ” The sound of that voice wrapped around his name makes him dizzy. _“Happy birthday.”_

It's the first time he's heard it today. Keith tries not to make a fool of himself. “Thanks Shiro. How's space?”

Shiro grins brighter than the sun.

 _“Oh, you know... vast, beautiful, mysterious... other unglamorous things. Hey, check this out.”_ He reaches toward the camera, and with a couple of clicks and rumbles, the vision rolls until it goes steady on Shiro's face again by a window. _“This was my view when I woke up today.”_

Shiro turns the camera out the window, and in the distance, Keith can see Saturn and its rings looming in all its magnificent glory. It's stunning.

 _“Not bad, huh?”_ he laughs, bringing the camera back to his face.

This view is somehow better, but Keith nods. “Incredible,” he answers softly.

_“Ah, so I got you something since eighteen is kind of a big deal—don’t look at me like that, obviously it’s still on Earth—did anyone pick it up?”_

Lieutenant Hedrick steps forward with a warm smile and a parcel in hand. Whatever it is, it’s soft, and Keith glances up to Shiro’s visage in shock as he takes it.

_“Go on. Open it.”_

It feels a little weird to share this moment with the rest of the senior officers, but Keith does his best to ignore them as he tears into the paper.

 _“I thought you needed an upgrade_ _,”_ Shiro explains as he pulls red leather from the wrapping. _“_ _That hoodie of yours is no good for riding.”_

It’s a little small, Keith can see already, but without even asking permission, he starts tearing off his Garrison regimentals and pulls Shiro’s gift on immediately.

 _“Oh...”_ Shiro sounds surprised. _“I didn’t account for how much you’d grow while I’m up here.”_

“It’s great,” Keith assures immediately. And sure, the jacket comes up little higher than it should on his hips, and he’ll have to do something about the sleeves, but it’s perfect. Of course it is—it’s from Shiro. “I love it. Thanks.”

The Garrison cuts their time there, and with one last _“H_ _appy birthday,”_ Keith is ushered from the room for the classified part of the mission update.

It’s a peculiar feeling, standing alone in the hallway, like being tossed out into the vacuum of space. Where there was joy just moments ago, there's now only a terrible void that swells as he makes the lonely journey back to his dorm. Who knows when he will next talk to Shiro like that? Maybe he won’t see his face again at all until he returns. It’s a soul-crushing thought, and the thud in his chest wanes. Shiro still has his heart in his back pocket, and it could be another year before he returns it to him. 

That thought stops Keith in his tracks. It’s too much to bear. He can’t go without for that long. He needs _something_. But he can’t go back to command and beg to be let in...

Maybe there’s something else though.

Swallowing, trying to force his nerve, he turns and starts walking the other way, straight to the officers’ residences. 

Straight to Shiro’s vacant quarters.

The meeting in-progress keeps the officers away, making his mission far easier than it should be, and with only a little bit of stealth and a quick access override, Keith quietly slips into a familiar room.

It’s eerie, seeing it all packed up like this. Shiro has never been messy, but this is unnaturally neat, and speaks of a place abandoned for now. There’s nothing here that feels of Shiro, so Keith brazenly marches through the living area, straight to the bedroom. The bed is perfectly made, but Keith can almost see the dent in the pillow where Shiro’s head should rest. Before he can think too much about it, he sheds his new jacket, his uniform, and strips down the corner of the sheets to crawl in under them. This was Shiro’s side, he knows, even after Adam left, and he buries his face into the pillow to breathe deep. It's faint, but still there: a hint of Shiro still left on Earth.

It’s not as soothing as he hoped. If anything, it only disturbs that unrest that lies in his belly a little more. It’s wrong, so wrong, but he needs more. And he’s broken the rules already.

Keith lets out a shaky breath as he dips his hand into the waistband of his boxers and wraps a hand around himself. It’s a tiny relief, but the feeling is dry and chafing. Desperate, he opens the bedside drawer and finds the jackpot: a half-empty tube of lubricant. 

He can almost imagine Shiro looming over him here, watching in amusement.

“Miss me that much?”

Keith groans as he hears his voice, palming his cock with a wet hand.

“In my bed, rummaging through my belongings... you ought to be punished...”

He squeezes his eyes shut, picturing Shiro's hand in place of his, stroking sure and firm.

“Is that what you want though? Is that why you misbehave? Did you just want me to notice you like this after all this time?”

But _would_ Shiro punish him? Could he be a tender lover instead? Perhaps he would kiss him now, sweet and soft. Keith tries to imagine his lips on his neck, tongue pressed to his pulse. Maybe he would bite, just a little nip, just enough to make him gasp.

“Shiro...”

“How long have you been saying my name like this?” the voice in his ear asks. 

God, he won't last long like this.

“Forever,” he whispers.

He can see it, the surprise when Shiro would draw back and look at him; a revelation. He's seen glimpses of that body beneath the uniform, of chiselled muscle under tank tops and solid arms on display. Keith wonders what it would feel like to run his fingers over the hard lines of his stomach, feeling him tense and tremble at his touch. Wonders whether he would let him indulge in the feeling of the body above him. Keith spreads his knees wider to make room for his imaginary partner, keening quietly.

“Oh, sweetheart...”

_No._

“...Darling...”

_Not that either._

_“Baby.”_

Keith's breath hitches, and he raises his free hand to the side of his neck, teasing at his skin. Yes. _Baby... baby, baby, baby..._

“I'll make you feel good, baby.”

Keith trails his fingers down to his chest, imaging Shiro's lips following the path.

“Make you forget I was ever gone...”

Down to the dip of his navel and the crease of his thigh. Shiro's hands would feel so strong when they took hold of his hips, pinning him down and forcing him still when he started to squirm. He pumps his hand a little faster. 

“I bet you're beautiful when you come,” Shiro whispers to him. “Has anybody else seen you like this? Or are you saving it just for me?”

_You. You. No one else but you._

Keith doesn't even know if he's saying the words aloud any more.

_Shiro please..._

“Then show me, baby?”

In his fantasy, Shiro keeps gunmetal eyes on him as he kisses the tip of his weeping cock, before enveloping him with a warm, wet mouth. It's too much. He feels his body betray him to the vision immediately, a tightness low in his belly and between his legs that releases in the most frustrating way on the sheets and across his skin.

The illusion fades instantly, and Shiro along with it. The high of orgasm crashes far too fast, before the mess even has a chance to cool, and Keith stares holes into the ceiling as though maybe if he looks hard enough, he might see the _Prosperina_ in the sky above him. Reality is cold. Disappointed tears prickle at the corners of his eyes as his shame creeps in. Maybe Shiro would find the grace not to be disgusted, but Keith can't, as his mind catches up. 

Sneaking in to Shiro's room, invading his space and sullying his bed? It's sick. For a brief moment, Keith thinks of him coming back from Kerberos and sleeping between these sheets, unaware, but then he scolds himself a second later. This is already a violation. Keith won't add another to it. He'll change the sheets and clean the ones he's soiled without question.

He turns his face to bury it in the pillow, catching the faintest hint of Shiro's cologne. It's enough to shatter his revolve, and he reaches to pull the comforter over his head. There's still a void in his chest where his heart should be, and it leaves him weak. For now, reality and all its consequences can wait.

 _In the morning,_ he tells himself, summoning the image of grey eyes and a warm body lying beside him, holding him close. _I'll leave, but only in the morning._

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/copilotsheith)


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